Torment
by chokolaj
Summary: The title says it all, folks.  Shep Whump!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Torment

Author: chokolaj

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing, I swear – just borrowing nicely.

A/N: This started out as a mini-fic born on the Shep whumping thread over at GW. The only reason I'm even posting it here or continuing with it is because of all of you on that thread – we all wish we could get more Shep whump (both hurt AND comfort) on the show and never get any satisfaction. I'll try to do my best in that regard, but no promises – can't satisfy everyone, after all.

--//--

Large drops of rain pummeled the ground, washing into little swirls of muddy brown around his boots. A darker color plopped down into the midst of one of the swirls, disrupting its momentum. Deep red lines began to blend with the brown and as the rain fell harder, the colors merged and washed away. He needed to find shelter, yet all he could do was stare at the depressing color display beneath him.

More drops of red intermixed with the rain and it took him a few moments to realize the drops were coming from him.

He turned his gaze upward, dazed eyes blinking heavily against the raindrops that threatened to drown his very spirit.

He was defeated. His team was missing. He couldn't recall which way the gate was. And his time was running out...

--//--

Muddy water splashed around his boots as he ran. It took all his power not to slip and fall. There was a trail of tracks but the heavy downpour was quickly washing it away. He could no longer discern whose tracks they were or what they were. He only hoped that they led him to his team.

He didn't want to think about whom else they could possibly belong to.

A sharp sting upon his forehead awoke him to a new threat. White pebbles began to emerge all around him, splashing into puddles, ricocheting off his boots, peppering his head and shoulders like rapid fire from a P90.

Hail.

If there was one thing that could possibly be more threatening than man, it was the elements. Here he was, exposed to it all and no way to know when he would next find shelter - or his team. His mind was as clouded as the darkening skies above.

Where had he left them?

Thunder rolled overhead, reverberating in his bones as he scanned all around for possible shelter. Nothing but rocks in every direction - as far as one could see in a hailstorm.

Lightning flashed and in an instant, he saw the source of what made those tracks. He skidded to a stop, arms flailing to keep his balance, his eyes wide with shock.

He reached for his 9mil and pointed it at a man he knew had been long dead, by his own hand, in fact.

"What the hell?"

--//--

Eerily enough, the hail had stopped and so had the rain. A swift wind whipped across him like a blade, chilling him to the bone.

There wasn't just one man standing before him. There were several. At first it had only been Sumner, but now he could see the dark eyes of Kolya staring at him from the growing crowd. More and more men, even Wraith began to fill the area before him, each staring at him with pure hatred intermixed with glee.

Man, that had better be one hell of a concussion he had better be suffering to see this.

Something trickled down his forehead and began to invade into his left eye. He quickly swiped at the area with the back of his hand and slowed when he caught the sight of bright red. Swallowing hard, Sheppard raised his eyes to stare back at the silent group of seething men before him - and women, as he caught sight of a Wraith Queen or two glaring in the mix.

"Er...hi." He greeted them with a small wave and a bit of charm.

And in the next second he was fleeing in the opposite direction, firing his weapon behind him...

--//--

"Sheppard, stop!"

Someone was grabbing him by his arm, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Hands grasped either side of his rain-drenched face and his eyes focused on one Dr. Rodney McKay.

"Geez, McKay! What the hell?!" He exclaimed, grabbing roughly at the scientists cold hands and pulling them away from his face.

"John, you are bleeding." Teyla's soft voice carried to his ears from his left.

"Why didn't you hail us on the radio?" Ronon's rough voice came from his right.

Sheppard shook his head in bewilderment. There his team was, standing before him, dry as a desert and staring at him as if he were a madman.

"Why didn't...what the...where the hell have you been?" He finally managed to sputter out, spittle flying from his face as he rubbed a hand through his drenched hair, leaving it to stand on end.

His teammates shared uneasy glances with one another before all three turned to stare back at him with an equal look of bewilderment.

"What do you mean, where have _we_ been? We've been standing here watching you lose it in the middle of an otherwise mundane mission." Rodney responded with a quirked brow.

Sheppard took a step back, eyes narrowing with mistrust.

"What?"

"John, are you all right?" Teyla took a step forward and it was at that moment that he noticed something truly off about the entire situation.

None of his team was armed. Their gear, even their tack vests were missing. They hadn't seemed to notice however, as they stared at him with genuine concern and worry.

He took another step back.

Why was every member of his team dry when the ground at their feet was muddy and the puddles were still running wild to lower ground?

Something was definitely not right...

--tbc--


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for your reviews everyone! If you're confused, get used to it. –evil laugh- This story isn't going to be predictable._

--//--

The corridor was dark. A scent resembling rotting mold hovered in the air. There was a fine mist of water spurting from the numerous cracked columns lining the corridor like giant sequoias. Those very columns once encased golden tinged water that flowed from the depths of the ocean beneath Atlantis upwards into the city to some unknown destination.

Voices carried from the end, where a faint light cast an eerie glow into the darkness. One was high-pitched, racing a mile a minute, while the other was struggling to remain calm and reassuring.

Ronon smirked. He'd found them.

As he neared the scene, however, his smirk faded into a frown. The light that was casting through the corridor was not from a P90 as he expected, but a shimmering wall of glowing threads stretching from ceiling to grimy floor. Standing before it in silhouette were Rodney and Teyla, facing the threads and arguing as they stared at something Ronon couldn't see.

"Elizabeth's been trying to contact you for half an hour. She sent out a team to look for you, but I knew I'd…." His voice died on his lips as he came to stand just behind his two teammates. They had quieted on his approach and turned slightly to look up at him, their faces grim. He didn't need to peer over their shoulders to see what they had been looking at, as he was at least a foot taller than either of them.

"What the hell is wrong with Sheppard?"

Sheppard was standing just a few feet away, on the other side of the glowing threads. He was faced away from his team, his hands at his sides. He didn't move, not even when Ronon called his name. The corridor beyond Sheppard was cloaked in darkness.

"He's been like that for at least twenty minutes." Rodney thrust a thumb in the colonel's direction with a crease of worry upon his brow.

"He will not respond to either of us." Teyla added.

All three turned back to stare through the translucent threads.

"Can he even hear us?" He asked, studying the threads. The threads themselves were millimeters thin, and seemingly in constant motion, organic in nature. They reminded Ronon of spider silk.

"No. At least, we don't think so. He hasn't even twitched in so much as a…wait a minute…how did you know where we were? And why hasn't anyone responded to our hails? One of us was just about to go up and find out what the problem was and get some help down here."

"I followed your tracks; pretty easy to do when there's a layer of scum on the floor. Elizabeth sent Lorne's team down here – they ran into some trouble of their own: the entire team got drenched when a section of flooring collapsed. They're all in the infirmary."

"Why is it that every time we attempt to explore more of the city, it backfires on us?" Rodney threw up his hands in exasperation.

Ronon took another step closer to the threads, his nose within inches of the stuff. It smelled like dirt and something faintly sweet.

"What is this stuff?"

"We are not sure. However, it seems that when we attempt to cross through, we receive a shock. It is rather unpleasant and I do not rec…."

Teyla's warning came a moment too late as Ronon dismissed her and took a step forward.

In a brilliant flash of bright white that lit the corridor in both directions, Ronon was sent hurtling backward. He landed harshly on his tailbone, sliding a few feet in the grime, hands and feet in the air. He lay in a heap for a moment, stunned. Growling, he picked himself up, wiping away the grime clinging to his clothes and skin and glared back at the threads and his two teammates.

"It stings, doesn't it?" Rodney cocked an eyebrow at the Satedan and turned back to stare at Sheppard's still form.

"I thought I saw something when you lit up the room like a Fireworks display. I can't say for sure…but there was definitely something moving down at the end of the corridor." Rodney raised his chin, trying to get a glimpse at what none of them could see. The darkness had returned as soon as Ronon had become airborne.

Whatever it had been, it had been seen in a mere second or less. Not much time to really discern truth from fiction when it came to the atmosphere of the situation playing tricks on the mind.

"What's the plan?" Ronon demanded as he wiped more of the grime off his arms and flicked it to the side.

"If we had a plan, don't you think we would be implementing it as we speak?" Rodney paused, and then snapped his fingers in rapid succession. "Wait! Yes…Zelenka…get Zelenka down here and tell him to bring my other laptop…mine doesn't seem to be working down here…better yet, you guys stay here, watch Captain Oblivious, and I'll be back."

Rodney turned and headed back the way Ronon had approached, muttering to himself, leaving the two staring at each other with raised eyebrows. Neither of them would ever fully understand the physicist. They turned their attention back to the colonel, the light from the threads casting a glow upon their faces.

"Something doesn't feel right." Teyla stated after a brief silence had fallen between the two. He knew what she was speaking of, as he too felt it, deep in the pit of his stomach.

As he opened his mouth to respond, he saw Teyla tilt her head and narrow her eyes. Ronon followed her line of sight.

There was a dark liquid beading at the tip of Sheppard's left pinkie. It released a moment later and landed upon the black grime at Sheppard's feet. It was hard to see, but with just enough light casting off the mysterious threads, both Teyla and Ronon could see the true color of that liquid. Red. They looked at each other in slight alarm.

Sheppard was bleeding.

--tbc--


	3. Chapter 3

_The way in which this fic is structured is in little increments, randomly going between Sheppard's experiences versus the others'. I am trying my hardest to keep each chapter compelling enough to keep you going. It's a challenge, and the way I'm approaching this fic is a refreshing change from my previous ventures. Thanks again for your reviews – they are much appreciated and they encourage me to keep trekking on!_

--//--

Rain poured down from the raven black sky, spilling off the edge of his nose as he stared on in disbelief at his hands. Red glistened underneath torn skin of which was swelling.

His gaze traveled past his hands to the three bodies lying at his feet.

Their eyes were open, staring without seeing into the clouds weeping upon them. Their skin was as pale as the white of their eyes.

Ronon. Teyla. Rodney.

He had killed them.

His heart beat slowly like the gentle sway of a pendulum. Everything around him was spinning madly, time flying too fast for him to comprehend.

Shaking his head in disgust, knowing he wasn't capable of such horror, he turned and ran….

--//--

The ground beneath his feet threatened to reach up and claim him for its own. The rain had made it soft and unforgiving. Layers of mud eliminated the traction on his boots but he couldn't stop now. His heart raced, his mind trapped in a loop, playing over and over the dead faces of his teammates.

He could not discern whether his mind was playing tricks on him or he was blacking out, for he was very aware of a sporadic timeline of events that did not meet up. It was like someone had placed a distorted film in his head and then cut away the essential bits and pieces, of which were still there, but hidden in the dark. It made him nauseous.

He had to stop this maddening cycle. Within minutes, he could be trapped up in another nightmare. He had to find a way out. He had to have faith that whoever those bodies had been, they were not his team. He had to believe that they were out there somewhere, safe, perhaps even trying to get him out of his predicament. He didn't want to think if they were suffering the same fate as he.

A rumble of thunder roared so fiercely from above that he skidded to a stop, ducked, and shot his hands protectively over his head. He could see a brilliant flash of light, even through his closed eyelids. The rain stopped instantly.

He straightened. Something tickled his left elbow. Eyes casting downward, his breath caught in his throat. A deep gash was in the process of tearing across his bicep. Trails of red ran from the wound, dripping down his arm, down his palm, and off his pinkie.

What the hell? He couldn't explain the injury, not unless he had received it during…NO! He couldn't think of them, not now. They weren't dead.

Panicked, he slapped his right hand over the wound and glanced around desperately for something to absorb the blood. He didn't have his tack vest. He glanced back in the direction of the bodies he had run from. Teyla and Rodney always wore vests off world.

And then he stopped himself. They weren't dead. They weren't there. He was imagining it. That was all there was to it.

He grimaced turning in the direction he had been running to, and continued onward.

--//--

He couldn't recall which way the gate was.

Left?

Right?

Had it been a space gate? Had they flown in on a Jumper? Where had he parked it?

Where was his team?

Nothing made sense.

His mind was buzzing. His heart was thrumming.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and opened them.

Clear blue skies. A warm sunny breeze. And a ring…a Stargate…lying eternally in a field of waving golden grass that stood as tall as his waist.

Brow wrinkled, he circled the gate's full circumference, eyes casting about to see any sign of struggle. There was no DHD. The grass had grown over, around, and _through_ one particularly dooming crack within the ring.

He hadn't expected that.

Frustration welled within. He had reached the end of his tether. He craned back his neck and bellowed to the empty sky above until his voice ran hoarse.

Fists clenched at his sides, chest heaving, Sheppard leveled his angering gaze upon the disabled ring.

Whatever this hell was, he'd had enough.

--//--

The scenery flickered and he was again in another setting. Lying twenty feet ahead of him was his 9mil, half-submerged in a murky puddle. He picked it up with caution, scanning his surroundings.

Had he been here before? He didn't recall. Yet here was his 9mil.

He heard a sound just barely audible over the gentle breeze.

Was someone calling his name?

He craned his neck, listening hard against the wind.

There.

He had heard it again. It…was it Teyla?

He spun around, scanning the flat horizon.

There was nothing but boulders of all sizes. Nothing more.

"Hello?"

His voice sounded hollow and weak.

"Teyla? Ronon?"

He waited for a response, believing with all his heart that he would finally catch a break.

"Rodney?"

The breeze died to nothing.

And the skies above poured down in a torrential rain. Sheppard growled and ran for cover.

There was a thicket of trees before him but how he had not noticed before, he did not ponder. It was a dark canopy of solace for now. It would suffice.

The moment his feet entered upon the mossy ground, cool air embraced him. He felt a calming take effect, unsure of where or how or why, only that his heart wasn't racing like it had before. He ventured in a little further, the green tufts of leaves towering above him sheltering him from the storm.

At last: a reprieve.

Relaxing, Sheppard rolled his neck, breathing in deep. He checked his 9mil. Loaded. No shots fired. Perfect.

He turned and watched the rain, mesmerized by the thin strands streaming from sky to ground. It relaxed him.

_Snap._

Letting out a groan under his breath, Sheppard rolled his eyes. Would this ever end? He turned around to face the dense trees behind him.

Faces - in the trees. They were staring at him. All those eyes, narrowed in on him. Accusing. Threatening. Haunting.

Raising his 9mil, he gritted his teeth. Lightning flashed, illuminating their pale faces. He knew them all for each had died by his hand.

Sheppard released a howl and raced forward into the trees, pulling the trigger on his 9mil with a fury born of rage.

--tbc--


	4. Chapter 4

--//--

There was a very small pool of red beside Sheppard's left shoe. The blood dripping from his pinkie had dried. Wherever he had been bleeding, the wound had clotted.

Teyla sighed in relief at this though it did not settle her nerves. Confusion and panic threatened to overtake her, yet these emotions were not entirely her own. It had to be Sheppard. Teyla could only reason to herself that it was similar to that of her connection with the Wraith.

"How did he get like this?" Ronon's voice carried Teyla out of her reverie. Shaking her head slightly, she made eye contact with Ronon.

"We do not know. Both Rodney and I were over there." She motioned with her head to a section of wall covered in some kind of greenish black organic material stretching in large strands over a mass of control panels. "We heard Sheppard mutter something, there was a flash of bright light and both Rodney and I were thrown to our feet from a concussive force of air. We saw these threads here and the colonel on the other side. He would not respond to us, nor would he move."

"We gotta do something." Ronon rumbled, eyeing the threads ominously.

Without pause, Ronon backed up, withdrew his blaster and fired off a shot to the side of where he had been standing. Teyla backed away the moment he fired, yelling at him.

"Ronon!"

The threads buzzed like an angry swarm of bees, flickering like the heart of an electrical storm. Teyla and Ronon took a step forward, watching through the threads as Sheppard's form began to quiver.

"Sheppard?" Ronon called for his team leader.

No response. His body stilled just as the threads began to stabilize: their now familiar luminance and silence returning.

The two standing on the other side exchanged curious glances.

--//--

Rodney was sure he had been down this corridor before. The dim lighting here was hardly the strength of candlelight yet he could still see the tracks in the grime of the floor. One set going one way, the other going the opposite. Both were his.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, he reached for his radio. He stopped with his hand halfway when he remembered their radios didn't work down here. He released a groan and rubbed a hand across his face.

He _never_ got lost.

A brief flash of light, just a sliver really, caught his attention at the end of the corridor. Fear began to creep into his veins as he straightened. Curiosty overruled and he found himself walking gingerly forward. The light vanished and he was once more left in dim light and no idea of where the transporter was that had brought them all down there in the first place.

A faint metal clang echoed from ahead. He froze. His heart began to race as his mind thought it pertinent to play tricks on him. Now he was imagining the walls were moving in on him and that he could hear whispers in the deadened atmosphere.

Swallowing harshly, he dared another step forward. There was another glimpse of light, this time very localized, like that of a flashlight.

"H…hello?" His voice cracked. He was unarmed, he didn't have his laptop…he was utterly defenseless. Now was not the time to be wishing he had taken Ronon seriously during their little "sessions" in defense.

His voice sounded hollow against the corridor, almost as if something was sucking away all the life from it.

A whisper, unintelligible, but definitely a voice, carried to his ears. Goose bumps formed and he had the slightest sensation of crawling at the nape of his neck.

"Rodney."

A shriek escaped his lips and he turned at the very real, very close voice just behind him.

Staring at him with just as wide eyes was Zelenka, holding a flashlight and a laptop. Two marines were standing behind him, eyeing Rodney with amused expressions.

"Gees, what the…give a man a heart attack will you?! What the hell are you doing down here?! Wait, don't answer that. Give me your laptop." Rodney rambled, quickly trying to recover from his episode, and grabbed the laptop out of Zelenka's hands. As Rodney fiddled around on the database, calling up Atlantis' schematics, Zelenka peered over his shoulder.

"What are you looking for?"

Rodney looked up, not into Zelenka's face, but off into the distance with a look of impatience.

"Body space, Zelenka." He tapped the screen a few times before continuing. "Sheppard's trapped and we can't figure out how to reach him. The radios aren't working either. There's got to be some kind of interference down here that we missed…."

"Trapped?"

"Yes, trapped, as in incredibly and annoyingly stuck in one spot without so much as a peep to tell us how the hell he got into this mess in the first place. I swear he's doing it on purpose just to get back at me for that time on…hold on…what's this?"

Rodney maneuvered the laptop so that Zelenka could view the screen. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what he was looking at before he turned to Rodney with a frown.

"Sirs?" One of the marines was peering curiously at the screen as well.

Rodney turned the screen so that all of them could see it, save him. A schematic was drawn up looking much like a never-ending maze of corridors. There were thousands and thousands of little dots in the corridors, none of them moving.

"Life signs." Rodney's face was drawn, now that he was beginning to realize their predicament.

"That's impossible. There's nobody down here but us and your team." The other marine shook his head.

A chill ran up Rodney's spine as he saw one of the dots move just as Zelenka took a step away from him. Not only had he just determined which dots _they_ were but he also realized where they were on the schematic, as did the others.

All four glanced up, looking bewildered as they turned around in place, seeing nothing but dim walls, a grimy floor, and eerie darkness beyond. On the screen of the laptop, however, there were hundreds of the life signs surrounding them.

--tbc--


	5. Chapter 5

_Brace yourselves – there's whump up ahead! _

--//--

He knew his rampage into the arms of the dead would be fruitless. But he was angry, restless, and he felt the need to _do something_.

The faces disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Very cliché. The echo of his gunfire drifted off in the driving rain. Some drops escaped the canopy above, flattening his unruly hair against his forehead.

Breathing hard, he struggled to find his center. If he was going to survive this, he had to be rational, clear-headed. He closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out.

_I want to see my team. Alive._

He opened his eyes.

All three of them were standing before him, unharmed. Their expressions were blank, as if they were not really there, in body, mind, or spirit.

That had been too easy. Which told Sheppard a little bit about who was doing this to him.

He paced back and forth, watching as their eyes traced his movements. He stopped and stood before Rodney. The man blinked at him, but there appeared to be no recognition in those vacant eyes.

"You're doing a piss poor job of getting me out of this, McKay!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he antagonized his teammate.

Nothing. Not even a blink for a reaction. Frustration began to mount to new levels within him. The rain began to fall harder, sending leaves from overhead to the muddy ground under foot. Sheppard took a small step forward, standing nose to nose with Rodney.

"McKay." His tone demanded a response. A quick glimpse to the other two and Sheppard began to wonder if they could even hear him.

"Meredith!" He growled through clenched teeth, not a hint of humor in his face. Nostrils flaring, Sheppard took a centering breath, even as a muscle twitched at his jaw.

He took a few steps back so that he stood before the three, staring them up and down in chilling silence. The rain was soaking them all to the bone by this point, the wind beginning to pick up and making it sting against their exposed skin.

Thunder rolled overhead. Lightning frequented the scene, lighting it up like a crowd of paparazzi surrounding a celebrity.

An idea came to him and Sheppard straightened his posture to address his team.

"I've had enough! None of you are dead!" He started to pace again, going up and down the line before his stone-faced teammates, as if they were soldiers standing at attention. "I _order_ you to stay alive!"

He stared each and every one of them down. Nose to nose. Rain spilled down their faces. Their pupils dilated in the lapses of darkness. It was like they were there physically, but not in any other sense. It sent chills crawling across his skin.

A loud crack sent his attention upwards. He saw light, the outline of a snake-like form, and then nothing.

--//--

There was at least an inch of murky water swirling around his face. Bubbles formed at the surface of the puddle, an inch from his opening eyes. It took him a moment to realize the bubbles were coming from his nose. It took him another couple of moments to feel the wetness through his clothes.

He was lying in a puddle of water. Or was it blood? He couldn't tell in the twilight, or dawn, or whatever type of dim light existing at the present. The puddle beneath him was dark and slightly chilly.

He moved achy muscles. How long had he been lying there?

The rain had stopped long ago. The storm clouds had dissipated. The sky was clear.

And it felt like a huge railroad spike had been driven through his head. Even his eyeballs hurt. Pain like this tended to make one aware of every muscle, nerve and tendon. Not only that, there was the worsening sensation that the world was spinning and taking him along for the ride.

His fingers dug into the cool soil at the edge of the puddle as he forced himself to roll over onto his back. Eyes squeezed shut, Sheppard gathered in several small gasps of air before releasing one long breath.

Nausea threatened to reign. He wouldn't stand for it (surely not literally). It was bad enough that he was lying in a puddle…of something…that he was too incapacitated to remove himself from.

A low groan escaped him. He blinked several times as something threatened to trickle into his left eye. Bringing a shaky hand up, he wiped at the offending trickle and came away with a blurry, but definitely red-tainted hand. _Great._ He was still bleeding.

He blearily looked as far around himself as he could without moving his head. Difficult as that was, he saw the culprit of what had hit him lying within an arm's length of his head.

A branch.

_A. Mother. Fricken. Branch_.

He groaned again. The branch _was_ the size of one of Ronon's bulging biceps.

After a few moments of floating in a near daze, Sheppard managed to snap himself back into the situation at hand. He gingerly raised himself up by resting his forearms on either side. The scene before him was a blur of browns and blues. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. His vision settled just a little. It was enough for him to see what was right before him.

Standing there, as permanent a fixture in the landscape as statues, was his team. They looked like they had never moved. It took him a few more moments to realize with shock that were dry as well.

He finally found the strength to raise himself to a sitting position, his legs flailed out before him. Shoulders drooping, hair flat against his head, mud and blood streaming down the side of his face, Sheppard studied the still figures of his team.

His head was pounding with the beat of his heart. Black and white fuzzy dots were fighting each other to pervade his vision.

And then he smiled.

They had listened.

For the telltale sign in the mud at their feet gave Sheppard hope. Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon had each taken a step backward, to avoid the branch.

A moment later, however, as his fading mind caught up with his logic, his smile morphed into a frown. They hadn't, to his detriment, pushed _him_ out of the way.

In the back of his mind, he realized that if there _were_ a next time, he would have to be a little more specific with his orders.

--tbc--


	6. Chapter 6

_I know this fic has been confusing, so I hope I'm not losing you. Things are revealing themselves, chapter by chapter so please be patient. Thank you if you left a review as it definitely gives me a lift. _

--//--

Helplessness did not suit Ronon and Teyla. They were unaccustomed to the very idea of it. Their entire lives had been built around survival. Survival meant always being aware, always being in motion to ensure that life continued.

To stand so close to their leader and not be able to reach him in any form was tantamount to torture. The thin glowing strands were in constant motion, like thin streams of rain traveling down the length of a spider's silk trail. Miniscule though they were, they boosted the incredible strength of ten Wraith warriors. There was no way to break through, no way to reach for Sheppard and pull him to safety. While Sheppard was physically trapped, they felt they were the ones trapped with the inability to act.

"He is strong." Teyla noted in a quiet voice. Her gaze never shifted from Sheppard's back.

Ronon nodded, staring at Sheppard's still form. A steel blade, one from the collection of knives hidden upon his person, danced purposefully across his agile fingers as he idled in impatience for the lack of doing something.

"Until I met him, I didn't have much faith in people."

It was Teyla's turn to nod. She smiled briefly.

"He has a skill for finding trouble, doesn't he?"

"I think he does it on purpose."

The two shared a smile before growing serious again. They returned their gaze upon Sheppard.

"He feels he must protect us, no matter the cost to him."

"That…or according to McKay, he likes ending up in the infirmary with all the pretty nurses."

"Perhaps." Teyla chuckled.

Silence fell between them. Sheppard's body hadn't moved the entire time.

Ronon stilled his fingers, studying his knife with renewed interest.

With a sudden thrust that Teyla had not expected, Ronon jabbed his knife into the threads.

Several things happened at once.

A vibrating buzzing that pounded into their ears erupted into the corridor.

The threads pulsated a brilliant blue light, like that of a strobe, before quickly fading back to their normal luminance.

Sheppard fell to the floor, his body curled into a fetal position, his fingers reaching up and pulling at his rakish hair. No sound came from him: at least none that Teyla or Ronon could hear.

The two, meanwhile, held their hands over their ears until the buzzing faded like the pulsating light had.

Relaxing, Teyla turned to Ronon, ready to scold him, only to find him staring in bewilderment at his knife.

It had been mangled into a twisted scrap of partially melted steel. It no longer resembled a knife, but a rather pathetic clump of metal.

"I am sorry Ronon." Teyla placed a consoling hand upon Ronon's bicep. She knew how much he treasured his knives.

He grimaced and threw the twisted metal to the sound. The resulting clang as the metal hit the floor was nearly mute due to the grimy film that coated the floor.

"We are not alone." Rodney's voice echoed down the corridor behind them. The two turned to see their teammate tagged by Zelenka and two marines.

The newcomers stopped a short ways away, staring at the threads and Sheppard's new position beyond them.

"He moved." Rodney pointed out and took a step forward to examine Sheppard's form the best he could from their vantage point. He turned to Teyla and Ronon. "What happened?"

"Ronon attempted to…cut open the threads." Teyla eyed Ronon before turning her gaze to Rodney. Ronon only breathed deeply in annoyance as Rodney stared at him with a dull look.

"Should of known he'd try something barbaric. Back to the point, as I was saying…we have a problem."

"Meaning?" Ronon prompted.

"Meaning that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of life signs surrounding us. Luckily one of Sheppard's grunts here brought along an LSD so I could verify it, so…according to this," Rodney held up his laptop, along with the LSD, "…we're not alone."

Teyla quirked an eyebrow and scanned the walls alongside either one of them, with Ronon mimicking her actions.

"Why can we not see them?"

"Ah!" Rodney held up a finger just as Zelenka opened his mouth to speak. Zelenka made a face as Rodney continued on with a smug smile. "They're in the walls."

Without further explanation, Rodney motioned to the mass of control panels he had been working on before this whole mess began. He pried open one of the doors, dug into his tack vest for a pocketknife, and proceeded to cut through a small section of softer material just beyond a dead control crystal. A moment later, there was a small opening where he had cut through.

"Flashlight."

One of the marines held up a flashlight and flipped the switched, illuminating the hole.

The group gathered together to catch a glimpse into the hole. A second later, they had all taken a step back, eyes bulging wide in either disgust or bewilderment.

"What the hell…?" One of the marines muttered under his breath.

There was blue-tinged organic matter clinging to every surface of a small burrowed out tunnel, not much larger than the width of a finger.

"What…_made_ that?" The other marine asked in disgust.

"Zelenka…we wouldn't happen to have an entomologist here on Atlantis, would we?" Rodney asked, swallowing hard.

"Dr. Marley Row, I believe." Zelenka answered.

"Good. We need her. _Now_."

"Wait…what does this have to do with the colonel?" Teyla asked.

Rodney motioned to the still illuminated hole.

"Whatever created that…whatever those life signs really are…created those strands that are keeping us from getting to Sheppard."

--tbc--

_Someone asked when I will be posting chapters and I am aware that ffnet has been a little funky as of late (when isn't it). Therefore, if you want me to email you directly when I update, I can do that, just let me know. Thanks. _


	7. Chapter 7

_SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen Sunday, you may not want to continue reading this until you do as this chapter contains a major spoiler. Sorry! However, it's quite easy for you to view this episode, beside the other options I won't mention, you can download it from iTunes, for $2, regardless of whether you have a PC or Mac. I highly recommend that you see it. Now!_

_I'm posting today instead of tomorrow due to some RL stuff. Otherwise, I will try to post on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. :)_

--//--

In a rather now routine twist, the scenery changed like the flipping of a television channel. His team was gone and he was relatively unharmed, standing in the midst of a rocky desert scene.

"Carson?" Sheppard's voice cracked as he stared at the figure before him.

It couldn't be. He almost didn't want it to be. The pain of the past was unbearable.

Yet there the good doctor was…though a little transparent in nature. Sheppard could see a boulder the size of a Jumper just beyond Carson and, in fact, _right through_ Carson.

"Aye." Carson smiled sweetly with a nod.

"What are you doing here?" Sheppard looked at the man through the corner of his eyes, his posture stiff, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. In this tumultuous reality of his, he had become quite accustomed to the idea.

"You tell me, colonel. Last thing I know, I was enjoying some rather sumptuous pastries me mum…"

Sheppard held up a hand, effectively silencing the Scot.

"Spare me the details, doc. Do you know how the hell I can get out of here?" He took a step closer to Carson, whom crossed his arms thoughtfully. There was a stethoscope hanging from his neck, the clothes upon his frame that of the very ones the doc had been wearing the day he died.

"You're team is working on that, son." Carson came to stand within an arm's reach of the colonel.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"That doesn't help me, Carson." Sheppard shook his head. Eyes locked and in that instant, Sheppard knew that Carson was here for a different purpose.

He stepped back suddenly weary of this ghostly visage.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, John."

"I don't know about that, doc. So far it's been pretty damned scary. I don't even know what's happened to my team…how do I know they're safe?"

"Trust me. They are safe." Carson reassured him. But Sheppard wasn't consoled. He couldn't be…not in this tormented world of his.

"How do I get out of this, Carson?"

"That's a bit complicated." Carson admitted.

"Complicated how?" Sheppard prompted in agitation.

"This is out of your hands, colonel." Carson shook his head.

"You know I can't accept that as an answer, Carson." Sheppard gestured animatedly.

Carson nodded to himself, looking to the ground for a moment. Sheppard twitched with agitation. He was getting_ really_ tired of this mess.

"Carson, please. You know I would have done anything…I would have traded places with you if I could…just to…"

Carson held up a hand, eyes locked with John's.

"I know. I _know_." Carson took in a deep breath before continuing. "It was _my choice_, John. Remember that."

Sheppard, eyes downcast, swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. When Carson next spoke he met the man's gaze.

"There is something I can do."

"Wait." Sheppard held up a hand, weary for the first time, of Carson's true purpose. "If this is going to harm you in any way…."

Carson smiled with gratitude and a hint of something Sheppard couldn't identify.

"You haven't changed, thank god for that, John. I am fine. I am happy, in fact. It is you, who we need to concentrate on now, John."

Carson paused, staring deep into Sheppard's hungered eyes. Sheppard felt his heart pounding…realizing with mild hope that he might just have a chance of a way out. Then Carson spoke.

"Open your eyes."

Sheppard furrowed his brow at the doctor, his eyes darting around in disbelief before locking back onto Carson's.

"They _are_ open."

Carson shook his head with a knowing smile. That smile both freaked him out and angered him at the same moment.

"No, John, they aren't." Carson stepped closer and settled both of his transparent hands upon John's shoulders. Unfortunately, John didn't feel his consoling touch.

"Is this some kind of metaphor that I'm supposed to decipher? Because that's really McKay's job."

Carson chuckled, the creases at the corners of his eyes a warm sight for Sheppard.

"I've missed this, I really have." Carson smiled and stepped back from Sheppard, his hands returning to his sides.

His form began to fade causing Sheppard to step forward, as if he could prevent it. He didn't want Carson to go. Not yet. It was the first form of comfort he had experienced thus far.

"Wait…Carson!"

And in a whisper, Carson's form dissipated, along with his calm voice, _"Open your eyes, John."_

An abrupt force slammed into Sheppard, knocking him several feet backward and onto the ground. Bright light flashed rapidly around him, causing him to close his eyes against the harshness of it. His head smacked against the hard surface of the ground, bouncing several times before settling. Blinking harshly, Sheppard struggled to cling to consciousness, trying to determine what had just happened to him.

Large drops of rain pummeled down upon him. There was a swirling puddle of mud beside him, intermixing with droplets of red. He stared at the merging colors of the swirling puddle, mesmerized.

It took him a few moments to register that his reality had yet again abruptly shifted to a new scenario. The frustration within him was barely contained.

His head screamed at him. A driving pain pierced into his head like a knife, and began to thrum to the beat of his heart. Grimacing, he slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. His attention returned to the puddle of mud beside him.

The rain continued to fall, washing into little swirls of muddy brown. A darker color plopped down into the midst of one of the swirls, disrupting its momentum. Deep red lines began to blend with the brown and as the rain fell harder, the colors merged and washed away.

Something nagged at Sheppard. Had he experienced this before?

More drops of red intermixed with the rain and it took him a few moments to realize the drops were coming from him.

He turned his gaze upward, dazed eyes blinking heavily against the raindrops that threatened to drown his very spirit.

And suddenly, as a stream of thoughts rushed through his aching head, he realized with dread that everything was repeating itself.

The feeling of defeat returned. He knew his team was missing. He couldn't recall which way the gate was. And, naturally, he knew his time was running out...

--tbc--


	8. Chapter 8

_Rewriting has it's perks – I had a completely different spin on this chapter, didn't like it, and set out to rewrite it. Not the first chapter in this fic for that to happen to. Hope you like it. Btw – Jules, your email bounced, so if you have another one, please let me know!_

--//--

Thousands of little blue dots pulsed on the screen of the LSD nestled in his palm. For every one of those dots, Rodney had a theory. None of them would resolve getting Sheppard to safety as soon as humanly possible. Glancing worriedly at the curved back of his friend, Rodney pocketed the LSD. There was no point in staring at the screen when he could be actively doing something.

"I need the laptop." Rodney demanded his eyes still trained on the inanimate colonel. Zelenka, standing next to him, sighed loudly before grudgingly handing over the laptop.

He muttered something Czech under his voice, but the tone was universal. Rodney ignored him.

Teyla and Ronon paid the scientists little attention. Their frustration was evident through tensed muscles, coiled tight preparing for the inevitable moment that Sheppard would require their aid. Rodney and Zelenka began to talk animatedly, but both had tuned them out until Rodney perked up, his voice drawing their attention.

"This isn't good."

--//--

The corridor was dark, but the dim lighting along the sides was enough to cast a small shimmer of light off the layer of grime coating the floor beneath them. There was a slight chill to the air but there were no drafts. The stillness in the air seemed to absorb any sound. It was quiet down here.

Too quiet.

Twenty minutes earlier, the animated voice of Rodney managed to reach the ears of those in the gate room over the citywide speakers. Somehow, the scientist had found a way to tap into it from deep within the bowels of Atlantis. His message had been cryptic. It was enough for Elizabeth not only to send along Dr. Row, but Dr. Keller and herself as well.

"So…Dr. Row, is it?" Elizabeth smiled politely to the doctor traveling behind her, studying her feet with curiosity.

"Oh…were you talking to me?" The doctor replied, her voice carrying a hint of a British accent. The woman was unnaturally tall, and stick thin, her long platinum blonde hair traveling nearly to her waist. She wore it in a frazzled ponytail though some strands fell behind the large black-rimmed glasses perched upon her face.

Elizabeth shared a smile with Dr. Keller, who walked alongside the leader of Atlantis. Behind the three women were two marine escorts as well as Dr. Row's assistant, a young man who looked ready to turn tail and run.

"You've been on Atlantis now two months, am I right? How are you settling?" Elizabeth was struggling to keep her frazzled nerves at bay. The corridors they had been navigating since stepping out of the transporter had given her an unsettled feeling.

"It's quite refreshing." Dr. Row smiled back politely, though Elizabeth could tell her mind was elsewhere. The woman turned her attention back to her feet as they carried on. Elizabeth decided the better tactic would be to chat with Dr. Keller.

"And you?" She titled her head, gaining eye contact with the doctor. She was still new to Atlantis, only now beginning to get a feel for things.

"I'm adjusting. This place is so amazing." Dr. Keller said, then seemed to almost falter, as she allowed her eyes to stray to the walls surrounding them. Elizabeth realized she wasn't the only one feeling out of sorts about this place.

"Ma'am." A sharp retort carried from behind. One of the marines held up a fist while the other turned on the flashlight upon his P90. He pointed the weapon into the darkness in the direction from whence they came.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, instantly alert.

Silence greeted her. In that silence, she heard a whisper of a sound, but could not discern what it was.

Then Dr. Keller screamed.

--//--

Sheppard twitched.

There was nothing more than that.

Teyla looked to Ronon. Rodney and Zelenka noticed, too.

"You were saying?" Ronon prompted.

Rodney reluctantly switched his gaze from the colonel to the laptop in his hands.

"According to the Ancient database, as per usual, the Ancients were experimenting down here. This sublevel was specifically designed as a secret underground passageway for visiting officials and such. The problem was, they didn't think it was secret enough, so they laid out booby traps, er…protective barriers…." Rodney paused after the puzzled looks from Teyla and Ronon, before continuing, "Those barriers were designed to keep intruders out…specifically anyone without the Ancient gene."

"I do not understand. Then why is Colonel Sheppard trapped and we are not? He has the strongest gene of anyone on Atlantis." Teyla countered.

"Well, that's where the Ancients failed. Their experiments backfired _on them_. The barriers they set up to trap intruders did quite the opposite by targeting the Ancients instead. It says here that after the first ten deaths, they abandoned the project…and shut down this entire level."

"Do prdele!"

--//--

Breathing hard, her body shaking like a leaf, Dr. Keller stared upwards in terror. Elizabeth stood beside her in alarm, her hand upon Dr. Keller's arm. She studied the doctor before turning her gaze upon the ceiling.

There was nothing on the ceiling save a few beads of condensation forming along the structural supports.

Dr. Row's assistant in the meantime, had ducked into a corner in the slight bend of the corridor, his arms cowering over his head. He rocked back and forth, muttering and clutching at what was left of his hair upon the crown of his head. He was unresponsive to Dr. Row as she pleaded for him to get up and stop acting like an idiot. She sounded a little too much like one Dr. Rodney McKay.

The marine using the light from his P90 continued to cast the light about the corridor beyond. The light jerked from one spot to the next as he traced something that only he could see. His comrade stood at his side, urging him to report on what he was seeing. The second marine had even flipped on his own light from his P90, though failed to see whatever had captivated his comrade's attention.

Whatever was going on, it was affecting three of them simultaneously. The remaining three was simply dumbfounded.

Elizabeth made eye contact with Dr. Row.

The chill in the air wasn't the only thing to raise goose bumps on their skin.

--tbc--

_I'm taking the liberty of assuming Dr. Keller has the Ancient gene. _

Do prdele: _according to an internet translator, this is the Czech equivalent of_ Shit!


	9. Chapter 9

_This is primarily Shep whump, though I couldn't avoid a bit of whump of some other characters. You'll find out soon enough why Rodney, being that he does have the gene though artificially, hasn't fallen into a trap yet. Another little clue: anything that happens in the corridors ultimately affects on Sheppard in some form or another. We're nearing the climax of the story, so you shouldn't be confused for too much longer! _

--//--

He was still bleeding from somewhere above his hairline: quite heavily in fact. He lay curled on his side, begging the pain to ease in his aching and confused mind.

The rain was constant now. There was even the occasional hailstone in the mix, stinging him wherever his skin was exposed to the elements. Sheppard brought his hands up to his head, protectively sheltering his face.

A brief and rather selfish thought crossed his mind. _What the hell did I do to deserve this?_ Only to quickly be replaced by: _better me than my team._

He could handle this. He had to.

Though his mind wanted nothing more than a whole lot of painkillers and some rest, Sheppard struggled to make sense of his situation.

The problem here was that he didn't know what to expect. There was no definitive pattern. It was like a bad dream repeating itself, only the key elements continued to twist and morph into new forms of torment. Or perhaps a bad film that had been sliced up, then pieced back together in the wrong order.

There was no way to gain control of the situation, to his detriment. He had tried with his team, ordering them to stay alive, but he had no way of maintaining that control.

His strength was waning: more so, his mind.

_Open your eyes._

Carson's words meandered into his thoughts. What the hell was that supposed to _mean_? He enjoyed the occasional mind teaser, but this was way beyond teasing…this was torture. He wasn't seeing anything more than was there. There had to be something more to it. _Goddamnit. Where was McKay when you needed him?_

The rain had saturated the ground beneath him to the point that it had now become muddy and increasingly colder. The chill seeped through his BDUs, seemingly to his very bones, invading upon any warmth that might remain.

The hailstones were growing larger, the stings becoming bites upon his skin. He knew what was supposed to happen next. He was going to see dead people.

Thunder rolled overhead just as lightning illuminated the darkening scenery.

He bolted upright at the scream that sliced through the storm, piercing into his very heart. Hands planted on either side of him in mud, eyes wide, chest heaving, Sheppard sat alert, scanning through the intermixing rain and hail around him. As he looked from left to right frantically, rain flung from his flattening spikes of hair. Swiping away at the blood trickling down his face, Sheppard stumbled upwards. He swayed dangerously to the left but ignored the dizziness.

Darkness was settling like a thick veil, consuming light faster than the rain was falling. His heart was pounding in his chest. He began to run, feet slipping time and again in the slick mud.

Lightning revealed a figure standing just yards ahead of him, facing away, but looking upwards. It was a woman with blonde hair. He called out to her, but the heavy rain overpowered his voice. He quickened his pace.

Just as he was within arm's reach, his eye caught two other figures. One was cowered beside a boulder to his right the other was standing to his left. None of these figures saw him, nor heard him approach.

A sound accompanied the next roll of thunder. Puddles were interrupted, mud and water splashing amongst many feet.

A dreaded feeling stirred within Sheppard and he saw the three figures around him turn to face what was behind them all. He couldn't quite make out their faces. It was like a dream…the faces were there, but it was like he just couldn't look directly at them.

To his dismay, he realized that they didn't seem to see him either. The closest thing he could think of to compare it to were two repelling magnets, unable to connect.

The terror though, he could sense from all three. Fear quickened his already racing heart. He didn't want to see _them _again.

But since when did John Sheppard allow fear to win?

He turned, gathering up as much piss and vinegar in his glare as he could to face them.

The pale faces emerged: Kolya, Sumner, a queen wraith or two, peppered between a dozen Genii, some snarling Wraith, and even a few shadowed that he could not identify.

They were all snarling, hungered, and dead as a doornail.

Sheppard clenched his fists both to keep them from shaking, and to reign in some courage.

Like a sudden downburst of air, the dead surged forward like a storm expelling its energy upon the earth. Sheppard stiffened and readied his body for the expected assault, whatever it may be. Instead, an icy chill rushed through him, knocking him flat on his back. Stunned, he shook his head to clear it of the buzzing that had taken resident in his ears. Blinking harshly as the hard rain poured down on him, Sheppard heard screams behind him.

His heart skipped a beat. Those were screams of pain. He flipped onto his stomach, his hand automatically reaching for a 9mil that wasn't in its holster upon his leg.

Lightning flickered enough for him to catch glimpses of the scene before him.

The three figures he had come upon were huddled together on their knees. They had their arms around each other, cowering protectively against the crowd pressing in on them. The dead were taunting them, hissing and hollering.

Sheppard had to do something. He maneuvered to lift himself up, only to find that his legs wouldn't move. Glancing over his shoulder he found there was nothing visibly pressing him to the ground. Yet he couldn't even twitch a toe.

He growled, pounding a fist into the mud. The three figures were screaming, begging for help. The dead, ghosts or whatever one might call them, were leaning in, smiles of victory upon those eerie white faces. Sheppard did not know what to expect: he did not know what the dead were capable of. And for that, he feared for the lives of the three innocents cowering beneath them.

A muscle twitched below his eye as he lay seething just yards from the others. He strained his muscles, pulling at dead weight. He gave up with a frustrated holler and breathed heavily, his chin lowering into the mud as his strength gave out.

He simply couldn't help them.

--tbc--


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm trying to decide whether I should delay posting chapters, finish this fic, and then post daily, instead of three times a week like I'm doing now. What do you guys think? Right now the fic is at the halfway point. I want to finish this one up as I've three other writing projects in the works. Eep!_

--//--

Doomed. He was doomed. Any minute now, he'd be just as screwed as Sheppard. His hands were growing clammy, his heart was hammering in his chest, and he was finding it hard to breathe.

Or perhaps he was simply overreacting.

Yet, he _did_ have the Ancient gene, even if it was artificial. Knowing the knack for trouble all things Ancient attracted, he didn't doubt the fact that he was most likely the next victim of a booby trap straight out of the Indiana Jones trilogy.

"Rodney!" Teyla's voice snapped his wondering mind back to attention. Ronon, Zelenka, and Teyla were all staring at him expectantly.

He glanced at the laptop in his hands, as if he only now realized he had been holding it.

"Right. Yes. Of course." He stammered. _What the hell were they going to do?_

Luckily for him, he thought quickly on his feet. He snapped his fingers at a rather frazzled looking Zelenka and pointed to the abandoned control panels to the right side of the corridor behind them.

"You and Conan work on tearing those control panels off the wall. We need to see what's behind there…what these life signs really are."

He was afraid to move even an inch in any direction. He could only guess at what could possibly trigger any barriers hidden from view.

A million thoughts, solutions, and digressions streamed through his mind as he tried to find a solution to their problem. _Were there more in this corridor? How had Sheppard triggered the trap he was in? When had he last eaten? And exactly where the hell was backup in the form of Dr. Row, Dr. Keller, et al?_

"Should Dr. Row and the others not be here by now?" Teyla plucked the words right out of his mind. She cocked her head at him in question, awaiting his response.

One step ahead of her, Rodney widened the perimeters of the LSD in his other hand. After a moment, the life signs he hoped were the others appeared not too far from their position, along a parallel corridor. None of them seemed to be moving. There were six in all, hovering in the center of the corridor with hundreds of blue little dots lined on either some of them.

"Hmm."

Teyla looked expectantly at him as he looked up to meet her gaze.

"They're down here, but they aren't moving."

"I can check it out." Ronon offered, stepping up from assisting Zelenka. The scientist currently was gripping a rather heavy looking panel door. It slid within his grasp to the floor with a thud.

"That's probably not a good idea." Rodney kept his eyes on the LSD, his mind still running through scenarios. "There might be a chance that some of the traps aren't triggered by the gene."

"We would have figured that out by now, don't you think?" Ronon retorted in a dry voice.

Rodney simply gave him a look. Ronon exchanged a small smile with Teyla before heading back to help Zelenka. Rodney turned his attention to the schematics displayed on the laptop. He saw out the corner of his eye that Teyla had returned her attention to the colonel, whom had remained still the entire time.

He found himself staring at the crumpled form of his friend through the glowing strands moments later. He couldn't help but wonder what the colonel was going through at the moment. Fear clenched his heart and he found his gaze wandering, anything to avoid the truth of the matter. Sheppard would die if they couldn't break through the barrier. Whatever condition he was in was not good and Rodney would have made a safe bet assuming the colonel was a lot worse off than any of them realized.

His gaze fell to the nearly pitch black corridor beyond Sheppard. A thought occurred to him and he began to tap away furiously at the laptop. Moments later, the answer was displayed on screen. Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"There's a hatch." He said aloud, before realizing it. Teyla turned to him once more.

"What?"

"The corridor beyond Sheppard. It stops but there's a hatch that leads up to the landing dock on the Eastern Pier. Maybe we can get to Sheppard from there."

The worry melted away from Teyla's face.

"McKay." Ronon's voice boomed behind them. Something in his voice had both Teyla and McKay walking over to stand beside the runner.

Zelenka and Ronon were crouched, peering into a gaping hole where a control panel used to be stationed on the wall. There were more strands stretching across the hole, reminding Rodney of a rabid animal with jaws set wide. Beyond the hole was a glowing mass of blue that seemed to vibrate and pulse and move in little burrows that had been cross-sectioned via the removal of the control panel.

"What the hell is it?" Zelenka pondered with a look of disgust intermixed with fear.

Rodney simply held up his LSD and finally got an answer. These were the life signs they had been seeing.

He leaned in for a closer look.

Squirming and pushing through a thick clear gel were hundreds of tiny elongated worms. They were long, nearly the length of Ronon's arms spread wide from his body. Curled up and tangled, the worms were in constant motion, their movements smooth like that of a snake coiling and uncoiling.

A spark flew as two worms slid across each other at an alarming speed. Blue light flashed, causing the four onlookers to jump back in slight alarm.

Then, without warning, a worm slid from its burrow, snapping like a whip onto the floor at their feet.

In a comical gesture, the four glanced at one another, and then they backed up to the opposite wall of the corridor. Ronon withdrew his blaster as the worm sped at an alarming speed across the floor, slithering like a snake…straight for Rodney.

A blast echoed throughout the corridor as Ronon fired, the light temporarily illuminating the corridor. The worm splattered, blue glowing specks landing upon everyone.

And then Sheppard screamed, his back arching, fingers curled. He flipped onto his back as the others rushed to the transparent wall of strands dividing them. Sheppard screamed again, this time his voice trailing off in a weak whimper before he once more fell limp.

The four stared at each other in alarm.

And then they turned back to the slithering burrow of worms in the wall, watching as more and more of the worms slid out and onto the grimy floor.

There was nowhere to go. They were trapped.

--tbc--


	11. Chapter 11

_Yes, I know the chapters are short. But it was the only way to get myself back into writing since I seemed to be able to handle little bursts of it at a time. _

_Anyway, the votes are in and it was a tie. Some of you thought it'd be best for me to post all of this when the fic is finished and the rest thought it best that I continue posting three times a week. So this is what I'm going to do: I'm going to continue posting three times a week, BUT when I am finished with the fic, then I will post every day until the end. I'm afraid that if I stop posting for a bit, I'll stop writing, thinking I have time. I _never_ have time and when I do, I abuse it! _

--//--

"Sheppard, stop!"

A chill ran down his spine. He knew what was next.

Someone grabbed him by his arm, roughly spinning him around. Hands grasped either side of his rain-drenched face and his eyes focused on one Dr. Rodney McKay.

The rain had stopped. The sky was clear. McKay wasn't wet, yet Sheppard was.

"I can't!" He exclaimed, grabbing roughly at the scientists cold hands and pulling them away from his face.

"John, you are bleeding." Teyla's soft voice carried to his ears from his left.

"Listen to me." He sputtered, his eyes darting wildly from one teammate to the next. They were all dry. They stared at him like he had lost his mind. It sure as hell felt like it at the moment.

"Why didn't you hail us on the radio?" Ronon asked.

His radio? He didn't have his radio that was why. It wasn't in his ear._ Where had it gone?_

"Something's seriously wrong here. I can't find a way out. What the hell is going on?"

His teammates shared uneasy glances with one another before all three turned to stare back at him as if _he_ was the crazy one.

"What do you mean, where have _we_ been? We've been standing here watching you lose it in the middle of an otherwise mundane mission." Rodney responded with a quirked brow.

Sheppard took a step back, this time realizing that no matter what he said, they never changed their responses from the first time around.

"What?"

"John, are you all right?" Teyla took a step forward and Sheppard took one more step back.

One thing had changed. They were all armed.

Sheppard glanced wearily at his team, staring at him with increasingly alarmed expressions. There was something off about the entire situation. The ground at their feet was muddy and the puddles were still running wild to lower ground.

He spared a nervous glance over his shoulder, to see a dark thicket of trees far beyond. Looking back, he noticed a change in their eyes. They stood in a row before him now, fingers twitching above holstered weapons, muscles tense, eyes narrowed.

They could sense his fear.

Before Sheppard could even process it, Ronon released his blaster from its holster and fired.

Searing hot pain slashed through his stomach. His knees buckled as he screamed out his torment. Blood spilled onto the already drenched ground beneath him. Red mixed with muddy brown.

Swirling.

Spinning.

His face fell into the mud with a muted splash, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Fingers curled into cool muddy silt. Pain ravaged his body. His mind grew fuzzy, distant. His heart drummed sporadically in his ears, the air he exhumed competing in the cacophony.

He blinked.

_Ronon shot me._ The thought finally registered.

A face hovered near his, specks of mud splattered across it.

Vacant eyes stared into his pain-filled hazel eyes.

The pain consumed him, tearing into the very depth of him, shredding nerves, tissue and muscle. His lungs were tightening in the desperate need for air.

He was dying, he was sure of it. This was it. Finally: the end. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to live in this prison of an existence either.

The heavens opened above, rain pouring down like tears. His extremities were growing numb.

Pain was a beast that thrashed and tore at him, never giving him a moment's peace.

Suddenly, a piercing pain split across his hairline, followed by another across his arm. All souvenirs of his time spent in this f---ed up world.

The pain was unbearable. Blood was spilling from him at an alarming rate. The vacant eyes only stared back at him, making no effort to help him. Darkness was creeping in on the edges of his vision.

He closed his eyes. He was weak; his body was failing him. He was ready to give in.

His body was shivering, not only from the cold of the mud beneath his failing body, but from shock as well. Time was at a standstill, or so it seemed.

He could only hear the soft sound of rain pattering upon him and the ground upon which he lay. His team was gone now, he was sure of it. He was alone.

Carson's face flashed briefly in his fading mind.

And finally, he understood.

With every once of will left in his dying body, John Sheppard opened his eyes.

--//--

A blue glow cast an eerie halo upon the dark cavernous ceiling above him. It was all he could see before a terrible pain stole his breath away.

Fingers clawed into the grime. His body shuddered, curling into the fetal position.

And finally, he saw reality. His team was there, though they seemed faint, standing beyond a thin sheen of dim blue. It was all he could process before more pain swept over him in an overwhelming wave.

Writhing in agony, Sheppard gasped desperately for air. Panicked, he sought the comfort of his team. They were as desperate as he. They could not step beyond what appeared to be a barrier set firmly between them.

Sheppard could not spare the thought of how and where he was, nor why. He could only concentrate on fighting the pain and the darkness threatening to consume him. He was fading fast.

An idea came to him in the form of a whisper. It sounded a lot like Carson.

He knew what had to be done.

--tbc--

_Please review, thank you!_


	12. Chapter 12

_FYI: There will be 8 more chapters. :) Next week is a bear, so if I don't post regularly, it's only because of nasty old RL getting in the way. _

--//--

More chills crawled up Elizabeth's spine as she peered into Dr. Keller's now peaceful face. Her eyes were closed. Then her body moved as if she were simply walking in her sleep. Every muscle in her body was quivering, though it was barely perceptible. The other two mimicked her actions. Then, the three silently knelt upon the grime, linked arms with one another and leant towards each other in a circle, heads bowed.

"I should go back…get reinforcements." Lance Corporal Andrews suggested, standing beside Elizabeth and nervously eyeing the three kneeling before them. Dr. Row was standing to the side, seemingly oblivious to their situation as she studied the floor with acute interest. Elizabeth curled her lip in disgust as she observed the doctor dip a finger into the grime and proceed to lift it up to her nose for a quick sniff.

"No." She hugged her arms tight about herself, making eye contact with the marine. "We should stay together. We don't know what's wrong with them and we don't know whether we are at risk ourselves."

"I should really take some of this back to the lab." Dr. Row murmured nearby.

"We have to do something." The Lance Corporal was nearly dancing on his toes, his hand patting the P90 strapped to the front of his vest. His demeanor distantly reminded Elizabeth of one Lt. Ford. She swept the thought from her mind however. She had to stay focused.

Dr. Row, on the other hand, had switched into scientist mode and began to study their creepy environment in earnest. She ran her bony fingers along the dank wall scanning the dark surface with a look of intrigue.

"I've seen this before...there's mention of this substance upon the floor and what created it in the Ancient database. If I recall correctly, there was mention of something that sounds strikingly similar to the Arachnocampa. Quite fascinating little things…I visited a cave in New Zealand. Fascinating." Her voice carried through the dim corridor, sounding hollow and small.

"These…" Elizabeth stalled, unsure of the exact name the doctor had just referenced.

"Arachnocampa." Dr. Row supplied with a smile and a vacant look on her face. Elizabeth imagined the eccentric doctor reminiscing of her trip.

"Yes…what exactly was compiled about them in the database? Were they dangerous? Are they to blame for what's happening to Dr. Keller, Dr. Yi, and Sgt. Withers?"

Dr. Row tilted her head and nodded slightly though her eyes still contained a vacant look.

"The Ancients knew of a species similar to the Arachnocampa…on the mainland. Caves filled with them. Rather unpleasant I suppose, to those who do not appreciate them. I believe they might have referenced to the same thing in some experimentation. However, I never had the opportunity to study their findings. Iratus bugs rather take up too much of my time, unfortunately." Even for a doctor who appreciated bugs, the woman displayed a faint look of disgust upon her face.

"What do we do?" L.Cpl. Andrews looked to Elizabeth. He was quite the green soldier: she wondered if the man had even been through the gate yet, as he had only just arrived on the Daedalus weeks ago.

"I don't know." She rubbed her arms and glanced wearily at the floor, ceiling, and surrounding walls.

She was growing more unsettled by the minute and her mind kept playing tricks on her. Was that movement in the corner? Was there something on the back of her neck? She shivered.

"Do you think those things are down here with us?" Elizabeth hazarded a guess. Why else would the doctor mention such things?

Dr. Row smiled. It gave Elizabeth the willies.

"I don't think…I _know_."

--//--

Sheppard's eyelids fluttered.

Teyla was the first to notice. She spun around, knowing that the men had their eyes set on the advancing worms. However, the other three had noticed as well, and were peering over their shoulders in time to see Sheppard's awakening.

Fingers clawed into the grime. His body shuddered, curling into the fetal position. A pale face jerked back and with great relief, the team saw his eyes open.

Yet the man was in obvious agony: he gasped desperately for air. Panicked eyes met each and every one of theirs and at that moment, each of them knew it was the first time Sheppard was realizing his true reality.

Teyla dropped to her knees, coming to crouch level with her team leader. She whispered to him, hoping to console him.

Ronon could not stand to look at Sheppard in such pain without being able to help. Instead, he kicked at the approaching worms, withering and slithering towards them. They remained at bay, yet lined up along some invisible line they had set, perhaps in preparation to strike.

Pale as the morning light, Rodney stood stiff as a board, laptop nearly slipping from his grasp. Tears sprung to his eyes and he was too shocked to attempt to hide it.

Zelenka swallowed harshly, unable to do anything but stare.

To witness such pain and not be able to do anything was tearing each and every one of them apart. Everything they had done to this point had only hurt Sheppard more.

"I…I…." Came desperate gasps.

"Shhh…do not try to speak, John. Just breathe." Teyla's voice shook.

"Pleassss…." …another gasp for air…

"We have to do something!" Ronon growled from behind.

"I…order you….t…to…." More gasping, and along with it came a small cry of pain.

"Please, John, just breathe." Teyla cried. Tears began to fall from her face as she shook her head in despair.

A scream escaped Sheppard's chapped lips and he squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at the ground around him. Ronon released a howl in response and Rodney began to furiously tap away on his laptop, conversing in harsh whispers with Zelenka. Teyla bowed her head, unable to watch.

Sheppard's body unfolded, his chest rose into the air, and he released a pain-filled cry.

"SHOOT THEM!"

The cry died on his lips, his eyes opened, and his body relaxed. He rolled to his side, his face mere inches from the threads and Teyla's pale face.

The stillness spread across the corridor and all those within came to a halt, staring at Sheppard's stationary form.

Teyla raised her head and met John Sheppard's dull eyes. He blinked very slowly. She brought up her hand, hovering just an inch from the threads, aware of the heat and minute vibration coming from them.

"John?" She whispered in desperation.

"…Hi…Teyla." The faintest hint of a smile reached Sheppard's face before his eyes closed and he became deathly still. A look of peace settled onto his wane face.

Teyla's heart stuttered. Ronon slammed his fist into the nearest wall. Rodney dropped his laptop. Zelenka muttered an expletive under his breath, eyes wide in shock.

Only the sporadic snapping of worms rubbing against one another broke the stunned silence that fell upon the four standing on the wrong side of the barrier.

John Sheppard was dead.

The ominous threads glowed with the renewed vibrancy of life. Life they stole.

Then Ronon withdrew his blaster. Teyla jumped to her feet and unclipped her P90. Rodney fumbled around with the holster strapped to his leg and withdrew his 9mil. Zelenka covered his ears, being the only one unarmed.

All three stood in a line and aimed for either the barrier or the growing heap of worms beginning to advance on them. Zelenka backed up to a near wall, unaware of the single uncurling length of a creature hanging just above his left shoulder.

An explosion of fire and thunder erupted into the corridor as all three fired their weapons in rapid succession. The glowing threads vibrated and pulsed from light to dark and back again. The humming returned and the threads began to violently quiver, like the erratic wavelength of a troubled heartbeat.

The worms upon the ground zoomed back in retreat, either heading for the darkened corridor from whence all had come, or their protective burrows within the walls. The floor was a sea of sparkling blue as bodies rubbed against one another in haste. It was like a strobe light flickering in the night.

Zelenka released a yelp as one of the worms landed upon his shoulder, slowly easing its way like a snake towards his neck and unruly hair. He flung it off in haste, rushing back to stand amongst Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla as they continued to fire away in angered payback.

Without warning, a concussive force preceded a brilliant flash of light, sending all four sailing onto their backsides. Seconds later, the corridor grew dark and silence was restored.

--tbc--


	13. Chapter 13

_I have a freelance project to finish up, so unless I get that out of the way ahead of schedule, I won't post again until next week, sorry! _

_This chapter was a bit difficult to write, so I hope I was successful in what I was trying to attempt!_

--//--

A concussive bang reached their ears as muted noise while the floor beneath their feet shook minutely. Before any of them could process what had occurred, the three kneeling before them fell to the floor, unconscious. L.Cpl. Andrews checked on them to find their pulses strong and steady. However, none of them would wake.

Elizabeth and Dr. Row exchanged weary glances.

"What is_ that_?" L.Cpl. Andrews asked, staring past them.

Along a turn in the corridor just where the darkness overtook light, there was a hint of blue being cast upon the wall. It was gradually growing more pronounced to the point where one could see that it was flickering like candlelight.

Elizabeth took a step forward, though every fiber in her being begged for her to take flight in the opposite direction.

L.Cpl. Andrews cocked his head, listening.

Dr. Row stiffened.

There was a faint snapping sound…quite similar to that of the firecrackers that one threw onto the ground to make noise.

Something was coming.

--//--

Slithering worms to the front, a dark passageway to the back, and a dead lieutenant colonel lay in the center.

Ronon's ears were ringing and he shook his head as he slowly lifted himself off the ground. He saw Rodney and Zelenka doing the same. Teyla was already standing and making her way over to Sheppard.

Their impressive firepower had conquered the barrier of threads that had separated them from their leader, but it had only scared off a little less than half of the worms.

The worms squirmed and slid into knots in little heaps - waiting for the perfect moment to strike back. Their slim bodies were a dark purple, yet every time their skins met, a spark of blue would light up their entire exoskeleton. In a way, they were rather intriguing.

Teyla knelt in the grime; its disturbing warmth a sharp contrast to Sheppard's cold form.

Rodney stood at her shoulder, a grim expression marking his features. Zelenka bowed his head, standing from afar as Ronon backed up to them, his blaster pointed at the worms. The worms had yet to advance like before.

"Did we…."

"It was the only way, Rodney." Teyla spoke softly.

"It was his order." Ronon reminded them.

"He is dead." Teyla confirmed, after her fingers left the colonel's carotid.

The hissing and snapping of the strange worms was the only noise that followed her proclamation.

"Move." Rodney suddenly knelt and shoved Teyla aside. He pounded his fist into Sheppard's chest once, pausing for a response. When none came, he proceeded to do chest compressions. Teyla moved in swiftly to breathe into Sheppard's mouth at the appropriate moments.

"The hatch! We can get out through there!" Zelenka exclaimed, pointing into the darkness beyond Sheppard. "We'll radio a medical team once we are on the surface."

This time it was Ronon doing the shoving and in one swift move, he had scooped up the limp form of Sheppard over his shoulder. Teyla switched on the light upon her P90 and lead the way.

They had not traveled more than a few feet when the grime upon the floor grew more uneven and rough.

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

Teyla shone the light upon their feet as they paused for only a brief moment. There were thousands and thousands of flaky white shed skins, long and snake-like, littering the floor.

_Snap! Hissssss._

Ronon pointed his blaster behind them. Rodney pointed his 9mil and Zelenka stepped closer to Teyla as she shone her light back the way they'd come.

Hundreds of tiny slithering bodies were rushing towards them. Slithering through the grime, sparks flashing, and hissing their anger.

Firing their weapons, the group turned and ran. Shed skin and decaying bodies crunched beneath their feet. Artificial light bounced along the corridor in a dance with the brightening blue of flashes behind them.

They could see the end of the corridor drawing to a close up ahead.

The worms were picking up speed: their hissing growing in intensity. Some were slithering up the walls, seemingly defying gravity. Others were flinging their bodies, making flying advancements of several feet to gain ground.

"There!" Zelenka shouted, pointing upwards where Teyla swung her light up along spokes in the wall leading up to a hatch above them.

There was a thick mass of white threads webbing across the underside of the hatch.

Without a second thought, Ronon blasted the threads then turned to fire at the advancing worms.

Teyla scurried up the ladder while Rodney and Zelenka flattened against the back wall, watching in fear as the worms closed ground between them.

The hatch was covered in grime but Teyla didn't care. She rammed her shoulder into it, forcing her weight into opening it.

Blessed daylight flooded into the corridor.

The worms closest to them froze while the ones further back scurried quickly away. The four exchanged a brief look of relief before they hurried up the ladder.

Fresh salty air greeted them. Blue sky spread beyond the towering spires of Atlantis welcomed them. The long gray plateau that was the Eastern pier lay out before them. Ronon laid Sheppard gently upon its surface. Teyla and Rodney knelt beside him and immediately resumed CPR.

Zelenka tapped the radio in his ear and called for reinforcements while Ronon pointed his blaster down the hole from which they came.

"What about the others?" Teyla exhaled heavily. They were all out of breath, their hearts and minds racing from what they had just experienced.

"I'll go after them." Ronon nodded.

Before any of them could protest, the Runner had climbed back down into the hole and disappeared from sight. The echoes from his blaster faded quickly.

Rodney continued chest compressions. Sweat broke upon his forehead. Desperation painted his face.

Teyla breathed into Sheppard's mouth, nearly forgetting to breathe for herself. Tears were stinging her eyes, occasionally falling upon the pale face of the man they were trying to save.

Zelenka swore in Czech, his voice raising as he demanded help over his radio.

Time was against them.

--tbc--

_Answers will begin to filter in now as we draw closer to the end of this fic. :)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Got an extension on the freelance project and whumped by a cold. But glad to say we're back on track with this fic and it should be drawing to a close soon. Then I can concentrate on a few other projects, yay! _

--//--

"Wake them up! We have to leave!" L.Cpl. Andrews ordered, raising his weapon towards the increasing noise and light.

Snapping and hissing noises were announcing the presence of something sinister just down the corridor.

Elizabeth shook Dr. Keller's shoulder, glancing across to Dr. Row's equally frazzled expression. Dr. Row's assistant began to shift under the doctor's persistent nudging. Elizabeth felt a shift and looked down to see Dr. Keller doing the same. A quick glance to the awakening Sergeant and Elizabeth felt a flood of relief.

The threatening sounds were growing louder, the dark corridor now penetrated by flashes of light from beyond.

The three on the floor were not moving fast enough. They were awake, but confused and slow, their movements uncoordinated. They would definitely need assistance to get to safety.

"What happened?" Dr. Keller's voice was weak. She blinked blearily up at Elizabeth before taking in her surroundings. A moment later, her instincts kicked in and she was reaching for the other two lying beside her. Elizabeth stilled her actions.

"Can you walk?" The look she gave Dr. Keller left little in the way of accepting any answer other than yes.

"Dr. Weir!" L.Cpl. Andrews' voice shook.

The light from his P90 was joined by that of Sergeant Withers' P90 as the marine gingerly lifted himself off the floor to join Andrews' side.

"Get up!" L.Cpl. Andrews shouted, backing up into the queue of those he was supposed to protect.

Slithering into the faintest reaches of artificial light came a mass of tiny elongated bodies. Light danced off their skin, casting off an impressive firework-like display. Their hissing was shrouded by the sound of sparks.

Elizabeth swallowed back a scream. She had never seen anything like it. And she had seen a lot of strange things in the last few years.

The group edged closer together, lifting those weaker to a standing position.

The worms slithered closer: they were half a length of the corridor away now.

"Don't fire!" Dr. Row slammed her hand down upon Andrews' raised weapon.

Their pace quickened as they backed away: the light of the P90 lighting up the horror approaching them.

"Why not?!" Sergeant Withers asked in a rough voice. He hadn't fully recovered yet.

"You fire on them and you run the risk of harming Doctors Yi and Keller as well as yourself!" Dr. Row explained in a rush.

"Explain!" Elizabeth raised her voice as the angered hissing grew in intensity. The corridor was long, but they had no idea how far it reached or if it ended at nothing but a wall.

"I need to…never mind that now…run!" Dr. Row demanded and headed the group off down the opposite direction of the threat.

Lights from the P90s danced off the walls, barely lighting their way.

Dr. Keller was the first to trip and not the last. The three whom had been affected were still weak. They were pale and shaky, needing the guided assistance of the others to keep up the pace.

By now they were all covered in the grime that coated the floors.

Blue sparks and flashes lit from behind. Hissing echoed in their ears in perfect cadence to their racing heartbeats.

Then a different noise met their ears.

Ronon's blaster.

They stopped in their tracks and turned.

Brilliant light reflected off the slick floor. Slithering bodies scattered into the darkened corners of the corridor.

A rather loud snap was followed by a Satedan curse then another brilliant flash. The marines raised their P90s, preparing to fire, even if Dr. Row did not wish them to.

A moment later, Ronon came into their light, smiling from ear to ear. Worms scurried around his feet, one brushing so close it lit off a spark that had the Satedan twitching slightly. His smile never faltered.

"Need some help?"

"Thank god, Ronon." Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't fire on them, fire above them…scares the hell out of 'em." Ronon suggested and the group took little time in heading his advice.

Amid P90 fire and Ronon's blaster, the group scurried away down the corridor. A few worms slithered across their path, but only to flee from the noise and light of the firepower.

"What about the others?" Elizabeth shouted back to Ronon between bursts of firepower.

"What's the quickest way out of here?" Ronon responded, ignoring her question.

Elizabeth barely had time to take notice as she struggled to remember the layout of the corridor in their harried flight. She nearly came to a halt when she saw what awaited them up ahead.

A mass of dripping blue strands dangled down from the ceiling. Another trap.

The group skidded to a standstill.

Worms slithered over their feet in their haste to reach those strands, as if those strands were the only refuge.

Breathing heavily, the group glanced at one another wearily. Doctors Yi and Keller were still leaning heavily upon Dr. Row and Elizabeth. Sergeant Withers was barely holding himself up as well.

The worms began to take up defense, slithering around the group in a circle. They kept a close perimeter, barely an arm's width away from their grime-stained feet.

Ronon snarled, pointing his blaster in one direction, then the next. Something soft dripped onto Elizabeth's shoulder causing her to glance up. What she saw made her stomach drop in despair.

Thousands of dimly glowing strands of blue hung like sheets of rain frozen in time. The strands were slowly stretching downwards.

Elizabeth did not want to find out whether those strands were harmless or not.

Ronon exchanged a look with her and maintained his defensive stance. He would go down with everything he had to protect them.

Unfortunately, it seemed this time even that wouldn't be enough.

--tbc--

_Now I know why we don't see too many ensemble scenes on Atlantis – too difficult to get everyone into motion and maintain the plot! Same with fanfics. Argh! Hope I didn't get you too confused._


	15. Chapter 15

_Ah heck, since I didn't think the last chapter was too strong, I decided to go ahead and post double today. And I think I'm going to go ahead and post every day now until the fic is complete. Enjoy :)_

--//--

Neither of them would say it.

He'd been down too long.

They could hear the approaching engines of the rescue Jumper.

But they ignored everything and continued in their quest to revive Sheppard.

Teyla breathed.

Rodney pumped.

Zelenka felt for a pulse that just wasn't there.

Rushing air ruffled their hair as the Jumper came in to land. Pounding footsteps announced the arrival of additional help.

Yet none of it mattered.

There was no heartbeat. No intake of air. No sign of life at all.

Hands took over, gently shoving Rodney out of the way. Teyla was guided to the side by another rescuer while Zelenka sat back on his heals, watching in earnest as the rescue team took up the daunting task.

All this caused by a bunch of worms.

Rodney wanted to punch something. He looked to Zelenka, who avoided his gaze, then to Teyla's tearful yet hopeful eyes. She would not give up to the very end.

And here it was staring in their faces.

All because of a bunch of effing worms.

--//--

Just when all hope had faded, fate intervened.

For the maze of corridors that had led those into the hellish nightmare of a haven of worms had led them right back to the beginning.

Just a few paces down an adjoining corridor was the transporter that had lead them down here in the first place.

Ronon and the marines exchanged glances with the rest.

An explosion of light and sound followed only seconds later. Elizabeth grabbed Dr. Keller, assured that the others were behind her, and ran for their only exit. She prayed to the powers that be that it still worked.

Sparks flew at her feet as worms slithered in to trap her, but she was immune to them. It was Dr. Keller who suffered the consequences, falling to her knees with a shriek.

Elizabeth paused only to see Andrews slip a hand around Dr. Keller's waist and hoist her up. He pointed his P90 behind him and continued to fire, carefully avoiding both friend and foe.

One moment, they were in the midst of light and fire and grime, the next, the safe confines of a sterile enclosure. A brief flash and the next thing Elizabeth knew, they were all stumbling out of the transporter and into a well-lit corridor filled with an awaiting contingent of marines.

Finally, she could breathe.

She turned to the nearest marine.

"Seal off that sublevel. We don't want anything able to get in or out of there."

"Yes, ma'am."

--//--

They rushed into the infirmary. A pale and still Sheppard was rolled off the their right while they were ushered off to a waiting area on the left.

Rodney wrung his hands and paced. Zelenka rushed off, his finger to his ear as he heard chatter over the radio.

One question nagged at Rodney since the beginning…why hadn't he been affected? For at this moment, he would give anything to trade places with the colonel. Sheppard had saved his life a countless number of times. It wasn't fair for it to end like this.

Teyla leaned against the wall, her head titled upwards, tears streaming down her face. Her mind was elsewhere. Her usually taut body was sagging. Rodney recognized her despair. He walked over to her and gathered her in a hug.

The motion surprised the both of them but neither let go.

--//--

A medic team was looking over Dr. Yi and Sergeant Andrews. Dr. Keller was trying to brush off another doctor as he attempted to check her over.

Elizabeth stood beside Dr. Row and noticed the woman fumbling with something in her pocket. Reaching out, Elizabeth stilled Dr. Row's hand, peering down at a small vile filled with a familiar substance. Shock set in.

"How did you get that?"

"That doesn't matter now. I need to get to my lab and analyze it, _please_."

"I…fine, yes…go." Elizabeth stuttered, listening intently as a voice came over her earpiece. As Dr. Row hastened to her lab, Elizabeth's attention narrowed to the voice in her ear. The color drained from her face.

"Dr. Weir?" One of the medics stood before her, trying to get her attention. "We're headed to the infirmary now."

"Yes…I'm coming with you." She replied slowly and she met Ronon's gaze as he stood across from her.

He already knew.

It also explained why he hadn't rushed off to find his team yet.

--//--

Someone tapped Rodney on the shoulder. He and Teyla separated and turned to face a young doctor they had never seen in the infirmary before. The Daedalus had recently delivered a fresh set of scientists and soldiers. It would take a while to get acquainted with them all…if it was even worth the trouble.

The doctor's face was set in neutral; they knew the news wasn't good.

How long had Sheppard been without oxygen before they had reached him?

"We got him back."

The words hit like a brick wall, but didn't really sink in. There was a very large "but" hanging in the air. Rodney barely noticed as others began to file into the infirmary, Elizabeth and Ronon among them.

"He's unresponsive."

"Can we see him?" Elizabeth asked softly. Her voice startled Rodney, as his nerves were already beyond frazzled.

The doctor nodded in affirmation and led the way through a row of empty beds to a partitioned area near the back of the infirmary.

The curtains resembled those seemingly harmless threads that had separated the team from their leader. Teyla visibly shivered as they were pulled aside.

The team halted, not really wishing to move any closer.

Sheppard was as still and pale as ever. Machines breathed life into him though the doctor assured them he was able to breathe on his own with such assistance. Brain damage was currently being assessed, but the news was promising. Teyla and Rodney's efforts may have paid off after all.

Maybe.

Whatever state Sheppard was in now was mystifying to the doctor. There were no cuts, no bruises, no penetrating wounds that would cause the colonel to bleed like they had witnessed earlier: nothing at all to explain his current state.

There was one more thing. The doctor told them that Sheppard's eyes had opened once they had gotten his heart to beat again. He wasn't conscious, nor was he responsive. He just…was.

Hazel eyes stared back at them.

Sometimes death wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

--tbc--


	16. Chapter 16

_Well, I apologize a thousand times over to everyone who has been reading this. Some unexpected things got in the way and I was without a computer for a bit. _

_Warning – this one is a bit conversation-heavy, but at least you finally get some answers!_

--//--

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

John Sheppard did not stir beyond that simple act of life. His eyes remained open. He didn't even blink…which was disconcerting as a nurse had to stop by every so often to administer drops to his eyes.

Sheppard did not respond to anyone's touch or voice. He did nothing at all but exist. It was disheartening to witness.

His team kept vigil by his bedside, keeping hope alive as best they could.

Elizabeth, Ronon, and Teyla sat beside Sheppard. Dr. Keller would pop in every now and then, though she was under strict orders to rest. Zelenka had joined Rodney and Dr. Row in the lab to find answers to questions they didn't want to ask.

It was as if the strands that had kept them from reaching Sheppard had never broken. There was still some unseen boundary between them and seemingly no way to breaking through.

"Has he moved?" Rodney's voice carried throughout the infirmary as the scientist walked up to Sheppard's bedside with Dr. Row following close behind. The entomologist was rather shy, avoiding eye contact and clinging to a datapad tucked under her arms.

"Not even a blink." Ronon replied dryly. His gaze remained on his leader, as if that alone would make a difference in Sheppard's current state.

"Figures. He's as lazy as they come, you hear that Sheppard?" Rodney raised his voice a little, leaning in to take in Sheppard's empty gaze. Rubbing a hand across his face in frustration, Rodney switched gears. "We think we know what the deal was with those things down there…whatdya' call 'em? Oh yes…your garden variety Pegasus Galaxy Arachnocampa."

The looks he garnered from the others caused him to roll his eyes and puff out a breath in frustration.

"Glow worms." He clarified. "Or rather, glorified glow worms that had telepathic abilities as well as an uncanny sense for the real ATA gene. Which explains why I wasn't adversely affected."

"And how did they get on Atlantis?" Elizabeth queried.

"How they arrived isn't really the point. It's the fact that they never quite evolved from their state ten thousand years ago when the Ancients had studied them. They were isolated from so many outside influences. That is the only reason we know as much about them as we do, instead of being on the wrong side of speculation we usually progress to." Dr. Row provided.

Elizabeth frowned at her avoided question. She had the distinct feeling the entomologist had better skills talking to bugs than to humans.

"But why down in that sublevel and not anywhere else on Atlantis…or the mainland for that matter? Why hasn't anyone been exposed to them before now?" Teyla questioned.

Rodney lifted a finger with eyebrows raised.

"The Ancients, we discovered, were carrying out little experiments of their own on that level, like I mentioned earlier. They failed to realize these worms were down there when they were going about setting their traps. Unfortunately for them, they found out the hard way how threatening these worms could be. Now, from what we can speculate, these worms were able to join together as a single consciousness, concentrating all of their power onto a single victim, to successfully take down said victim in a relatively short amount of time by overwhelming his or her senses. The worms would enhance the worst experiences or feelings of that victim and torment him until he perished. From what we could discern, the worms had other ways of tormenting, as we saw with Dr. Keller and the others, but what they did to Sheppard was what they were most…efficient at."

"Wait a minute…what was so different from what they experienced to what Sheppard went through?" Elizabeth questioned. From what the others had described of Sheppard's reactions throughout the ordeal it sounded quite similar to what she had witnessed of Dr. Keller, Dr. Yi, and Sergeant Andrews.

"From initial reports, it seems that they were only seeing what they feared the most. That fear paralyzed them and they were unable to regain any sort of control. Whereas with Sheppard, we believe he most likely was actually living through an altered reality that the worms created from memories in his mind." Dr. Row supplied. "Therefore, his experience went further into his psyche, perhaps irreversibly so."

"So you're saying you think Sheppard won't bounce back from this?" Rodney turned to Dr. Row with a frown.

Dr. Row raised her chin in non-defiance, but her expression was painted with guilt. She had, after all, seen how harmful the glowworms could be – to one of her own assistants no less. Never before, Rodney surmised, had the good doctor been fearful of the subjects she endeared. Perhaps now she would have a change of heart.

"You said the Ancients abandoned their work as well as the sublevel. Why was it that we were able to access it?" Teyla brought forth the puzzling question that had bothered Rodney in particular since this whole mess began.

"It was nothing more than a disconnected transporter, which was rather foolish on the Ancients' part. They must have underestimated those worms. That, or they were distracted by the war with the Wraith. Whatever the reason, when we came along, the worms picked up on Sheppard's super ATA gene and voila! They bypassed the disconnection and we found ourselves trapped in hell." Rodney surmised.

With a haunted expression, Elizabeth met Rodney's gaze.

"So sealing off that sublevel isn't really our best course of action, is it? How do you suggest we handle this?"

"For now, it's the best we can do." Dr. Row answered instead and with a genuine look of regret.

Silence fell amongst them and they resumed their vigil over the all too still colonel.

All they could do now was wait.

--tbc--


	17. Chapter 17

_Eep! This is so difficult to write without Carson and I don't have a feel for Dr. Keller yet, either. Which made it difficult to write infirmary scenes in this fic. sighs So anyway, I want to warn you guys that posting may still be quite irregular as I have to use the laptop from work until I can gather enough funds to buy a new laptop for myself. Ugh._

--//--

Sensation crept back agonizingly slow.

Sound came first: a steady noise. Was it rain pattering down upon a hard surface? No. It sounded too…artificial.

Eventually smell came next, a strange waft of something he could only describe as cleanliness. It reminded him of the fresh cool air after a summer storm.

Which lead his mind to cottony clouds as he tested his seemingly swollen tongue, tasting an unpleasantness he didn't wish to mull over.

Clouds of another kind enveloped his body, or so it felt as such. Warmth and a welcoming softness caressed him.

And finally he arrived at the final, and in this case, most important sense: sight. With a startling realization he found he had already gotten past the hard part of struggling to wake: his eyes were already open. A dryness further irritated by him blinking told him a story he didn't want to know. _Had his eyes been open the entire time?_ Creepy.

His body began to tell him of the abuse it had endured…or at least that of what he _thought_ he endured. He was stiff and achy, like he had been lying in one position for too long. He experimentally wiggled his fingers and toes, only to find that it took some effort to do so. Breathing was unpleasant: his throat and mouth ached.

He observed his surroundings as his body and mind began to accustom to consciousness. Above hung the customary lighting of an Atlantis infirmary. Surrounding him, superior Ancient medial equipment intermixed with inferior Earth equipment. Somewhere nearby a few nurses were zipping around carrying about their daily duties.

No faces were hiding in the shadows. No thunderous clouds loomed above. And best of all…he was dry.

Yet he still wasn't convinced.

"Of all places…" He muttered though his mouth felt like it had been shot up with Novocain. _Had it been out of use that long?_

Why the infirmary?! Of all the things he had experienced thus far…his team dead, those he killed in the past coming back to haunt him, repeating scenarios…and now he was in the _infirmary_? It was the last place he had expected to be and the last place he _wanted_ to be. Surely he must still be trapped in this nightmare.

He wasn't about to let his guard down now. He had learned this lesson over and over. He remained still, waiting. There was nothing more he hated than the unexpected.

What was going to pop out at him next?

His heart began to pound, his breathing keeping up with the pace. He tensed his muscles and struggled to lift his head, which seemed ten pounds too heavy. He had to get out of this compromised position. He had to be prepared for whatever chose to torment him next.

Inch by inch, he shifted. Something…an IV he surmised, pinched at the top of his hand before pulling away. Warmth at the tip of his middle finger melted away. A tube painfully pulled in a place he least expected and to which he grimaced in discomfort: a catheter. He had been in this position a long time. One he intended to vacate any moment now. He felt the edge of the bed, the coolness of the air surrounding him, and gave his body the final push.

He had expected to land on the ground…in puddles no less…and in an entirely new terrible scenario.

Instead, he landed face first onto a hard cold stone floor and felt a rush of pain spread through a point just above his right eye. A second later it was followed by another horrible spike that sent his body into a frizzy. His chest seized as a sharp knife of pain sliced into his right lung. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.

Panic swept over him and he clawed at the hard surface, struggling to gain purchase.

The first sense of another presence was the pounding he felt through the floor…vibrations made by approaching feet. Sound became muted as blood rushed into his fading mind. An increasing pressure reminded him that he needed air. He sucked in a desperate breath and nearly cried from the pain it caused.

_There_ was the torment he had come to know. It confirmed that he had still not escaped the nightmare he was living.

If he had escaped his nightmare and been placed in the infirmary, he would have been pumped full of painkillers by now. Yet his pain receptors were screaming at him, demanding his attention, sparking a fire through every fiber in his body.

Hands were upon him, lifting, and for a brief moment, his tear-filled eyes met those of a familiar and comforting blue. _Carson?_ And then just as quickly, they were replaced by an unfamiliar brown.

His vision faded briefly. When it returned, everything was blurry and undefined. A fierce pounding sent bursts of pain through his head in perfect rhythm. He wanted to fight, but his body wouldn't follow his commands.

Moments came and went. Why was this happening to him?

He was laid on his back, an oxygen mask secured to his face. Pain seared through his chest.

The ceiling above was moving then it wasn't. He kept forgetting to breathe.

Someone was hovering above him, speaking to him, though he couldn't hear what the person was saying – the sound of blood rushing in his ears far too loud. Hands were prodding his chest, stirring up more fiery pain.

Finally the blessed blackness claimed him.

But not before he vowed to himself that when he woke next, he would be prepared.

--tbc--

_I had this fic all wrapped up and then someone had to mention something that got my wheels turning again. Crap! I could add a twist here but I'm thinking perhaps I should lay this fic to rest and get on with some other projects, then perhaps come back to this later on. What do you guys think?_


	18. Chapter 18

--//--

Green spikes and dips scrolled across the screen in perfect rhythm. They reminded Dr. Keller of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It sent a chill sweeping across her skin.

She glanced to the patient lying still in the bed beside her. She was assigned to him, but she just couldn't take on the responsibility of another person's life right now. It scared her to the point of an episode just half an hour earlier where she found she could no longer breathe. Diagnoses and treatments raced through her fading mind as she struggled for air. Halfway to the floor, she realized that whatever had happened way down below in the bowels of Atlantis was still affecting her. And not just her: Sheppard and the others, too.

Whatever crept in the depths had found a connection that was too tantalizing to pass up.

Shivering, Dr. Keller closed her eyes briefly, whispering words of encouragement to herself. When she opened her eyes, she started in surprise.

Like the active green on the monitor, Sheppard's hazel eyes shifted from left to right in rapid succession.

"REM?" Dr. Keller muttered, and her brow furrowed. She reached for her penlight and checked the colonel's pupil reactions. They were moving so quickly she could hardly note a change, if any.

"Any change?" Rodney's hopeful voice carried through the infirmary. Stilling herself from another jump of surprise, Dr. Keller turned towards the approaching doctor. His face morphed into one of concern as he focused on the sudden change in the colonel.

"He's dreaming?"

"I'm not exactly sure." Dr. Keller responded, her voice quiet, her expression full of doubt. She focused on the scientist, capturing his full attention. "I believe that somehow, we are still being affected by those…worms."

Rodney simply stared at her with eyes wide and his mouth hanging slightly ajar.

No words came spilling out, however. Instead, he couldn't help but wonder just what kind of hell Sheppard was still trapped within. A shade of compassion fell across his face before he quickly pulled up an overconfident smile.

"I'll fix this."

"How?"

"I…I just…trust me. I'll fix this." Rodney stare was intense before he turned and left, his mind already drifting to the task at hand.

Teyla arrived just as her teammate was leaving, giving Dr. Keller a half smile as Rodney brushed past her, barely glancing up and muttering a quick greeting.

"Still no change?" She placed a hand upon Sheppard's and looked to Dr. Keller for confirmation.

"He's in a deep sleep…dreaming even…or so I think." Dr. Keller frowned, chewing on her bottom lip.

"His eyes…" Teyla frowned in turn. Dr. Keller nodded. 

"He's still being affected. I think we all are." She turned to face Teyla. "Whatever happened down there isn't over. We're still in danger. I don't know how or why but we have to stop this."

"I agree." Teyla nodded.

"Maybe it has to do with whatever traps the Ancients had set up down there." Ronon's voice startled both women as they spun around to see the Runner approach.

"Why do you say that?" Teyla narrowed her eyes in question.

"This isn't exactly natural – what's going on. My bet is on whatever the Ancients did. You ask me, those worms are an experiment gone wrong. A trap that backfired."

"It makes sense." Dr. Keller agreed.

"But how do we reverse the affects?" Teyla prompted. "Colonel Sheppard cannot possibly last much longer."

"His body is already showing signs of fatigue and strain. If he experiences a particularly violent episode, he could die." Dr. Keller confirmed.

And as if on cue, the heart monitor began to speed up. Sheppard's breathing grew increasingly ragged, his eyes bulging and his muscles tensing. Teyla grabbed his hand, feeling the surprising strength as Sheppard squeezed her hand. He did not yet seem aware of them, however.

As Dr. Keller rushed to stabilize her patient, joined quickly by a nurse, Ronon and Teyla backed away to give them room. They looked at each other with heavy somber.

Sheppard gasped for air as a nurse lowered an ampu-bag over his mouth. As she began to pump air in rhythm, his eyes slid shut.

And then the heart monitor flat-lined.

--tbc—

I'm sorry if this is confusing or boring or whatever…I'm jumping back into things after a long break and I finally have a new computer! (Yay!) So I will try to finish this as soon as I can. :)


	19. Chapter 19

Thought I'd treat you guys with another chapter!

--//--

It was all suddenly clear.

The rain.

The dead.

The torment.

None of it mattered in the end.

He was still here, still fighting. No matter what, everything washed away in the end. Even the dead eventually faded. If he could focus on the here and now and believe that none of it really mattered, he could win this.

To that end, with every ounce of will left in his aching and tired body, Sheppard pushed through the darkness that was smothering him.

Lightning flashed, streams of rain pounded down into his eyes as he stared up into the dark blanket of night.

Faces threatened to overwhelm him if he looked anywhere else. Faces he knew he could finally let go. All he had to do was keep his focus on the darkness until he saw the light.

He held on to that thread of hope with everything he had left.

He wheezed, as the air grew thin, his heart hammering to keep the blood flowing. His body was failing but he refused to give in.

Darkness and light.

Keep looking up. Don't mind the monsters that happened to get out of the closet.

Giving up was not an option.

A whoosh of air slammed into him and in an instant, he saw a wall of frothing, swirling water rushing towards him. He gasped in a lungful of air as he was overtaken in the current.

He kicked as the current pulled and pushed at his exhausted body. Bony hands grasped at his ankles, threatening to pull him under. He thrashed in the churning water, gasping for air. Immense anger swelled with the levels of the water…he would _not_ give up!

Shouting in frustration, Sheppard slammed his arm across the surface of the water. Water frothed and sprayed into the air. Lightning flickered like a strobe. Thunder roared and rumbled. Hands pulled painfully at his legs. He could feel the coldness of their touch seep through to his very bones.

He slipped under the surface. Sound was muted to an eerie distant echo. He saw the faces, all crowding in, staring, taunting, crying or him to join them.

He was literally drowning in despair.

An increasing pressure in his lungs screamed at him to surface for air.

_None of this matters. Fight it!_

This was not reality. He would not accept it.

A roar unlike anything before erupted into the chaos and suddenly, Sheppard felt the strong current relax. Darkness settled and he could no longer see beyond his own hands. The water retreated, like the tide of the ocean. His body settled to the ground atop a soft bed of drying mud. All sensation faded away.

Time drifted.

He woke to find himself in the same position. He gently lifted his head to view a barren landscape. The sky was clear above. He slowly lifted himself up, standing and turning in a circle. A gentle breeze caressed his face.

In the distance, he spotted a black iron gate. He walked to it and entered through. A small field of tombstones lay before him.

Stepping gingerly forward, he read the first name he saw upon the aged stone. Colonel Marshall Sumner. He skimmed through the names of the surrounding tombstones. All deaths he had blamed himself for. And some, he didn't: Acastus Kolya's name he didn't much feel remorse for.

He sighed. Taking in a deep breath, he released it slowly and realized for the first time, how peaceful this reality had become.

Was it all a ruse?

His gut told him no.

Only problem was…why wasn't he back on Atlantis? That was where he remembered being last. Talking with Teyla and McKay in a rather spooky corridor deep within the city. He had been walking ahead and stopped, observing the dank walls with the light of his P90 when something had caught his eye.

And suddenly, he was back in the past, though this time things were distorted once again, jumping and flickering like an old film. He glanced around, aware that he was there and yet not really there.

Teyla and McKay were hovering around a console behind him, oblivious to it all.

He turned back to kneel down and take a look at a small mirror-like surface. It was a puddle, black without the light of his P90 skimming across its surface. He shone the beam closer, but not directly into the puddle, as not to blind himself. Leaning closer, he saw something forming within the puddle, just beyond his own reflection.

He reached towards the puddle to test its surface, hoping the ripples caused by his touch would wash away his growing and unexplained fear.

With sudden clarity, a face appeared just beyond his reflection. He twisted around, weapon at the ready…and found himself at the cusp of what would have been the beginning of his nightmare. Back in the beginning, when he had turned, he did not see Teyla or Rodney or the dank corridor of Atlantis. He instead had found himself in a tormented world of rain, thunder, and the dead.

Now, back in his newfound peaceful existence, Sheppard took in a shuddering breath. He stepped back.

That face. It had been his.

Sheppard turned to leave back through the gate but stopped just a few steps into his stride. There was another tombstone beside him. Something beckoned him to look. Did it really matter? Did he really have to look?

Curiosity won over and he turned to face it.

The color drained from his face and he stumbled backwards.

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.

Sometimes reality could be the worst kind of torment.

His heart stuttered. Breathing heavily, Sheppard shook his head, his upper lip curling in anger and defiance. He looked up to the darkness above and for the first time noticed the innocent twinkling of thousands upon thousands of stars peppered overhead. Gathering in air, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"NONE OF THIS IS REAL!"

And with an abruptness that stole everything away, John Sheppard's heart stopped.

--tbc—


	20. Chapter 20

Ah, what the heck, might as well finish the damn thing, huh? Enjoy!

--//--

Like the sudden appearance of the sun after a particularly nasty storm, John Sheppard woke up. His heart beat to a regular rhythm and he took a breath on his own.

Dr. Keller stepped back, along with the nurses, all of which had just been fighting for his life to stare at him in shock.

"John?" Teyla stepped forward, placing a hand upon his forearm.

Blinking, Sheppard turned his head slightly to meet her warm gaze. Another blink, this one with a hint of drowsiness setting in, and a smile brightened upon his face.

--//--

"He's awake."

There was a genuine smile across Elizabeth's face as she entered Rodney's lab. She found the man leaning over a Petri dish next to Dr. Row, both staring at each other with disbelief.

"Ah…Sheppard's awake." Elizabeth stepped closer, finding that the two doctors were completely tuning her out.

"Rodney?" Not until she was standing right beside them did they snap out of their fugue and turn to her.

"I can't believe it."

"I know, isn't it…." Elizabeth began but Rodney cut her off.

"No, I mean, the worm…Dr. Row's specimen…it shriveled up and crumbled to dust right before our eyes." Rodney gestured with his hands as he and Dr. Row stepped back for Elizabeth to stare at what resembled an squiggly line of ash within a Petri dish.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, looking from one perplexed expression to the next, both mirroring her own. For the countless time that day, a chill spread Goosebumps across her skin and she knew she was not the only one experiencing it.

"Somehow I don't think it is a coincidence then, that Colonel Sheppard is now awake and already grumbling about being in the infirmary."

A genuine smile spread across Rodney's face accompanied by a rather shy one from Dr. Row.

"Go see him." Elizabeth urged and turned on her heel, leaving the still perplexed doctors in her wake.

--//--

"You should get me some Jell-O, too." Sheppard's voice filtered through the infirmary as Rodney entered. Ronon swept by him a moment later, rolling his eyes but maintaining a genuine smile of his own.

Rodney felt a sense of calm at that. It suggested everything was back to normal.

He came upon Sheppard sitting up in his bed with Teyla sitting in a chair beside him.

"Rodney! Just the man I wanted to see!" Sheppard greeted him with cheerfulness quite out of character.

Dr. Keller entered behind him and stopped beside Sheppard's bed.

"He's going to be a little 'happy' for a while. We have him on some medication. Well, that, and it seems he has a newfound 'zest' for life." Dr. Keller explained.

"It's creeping me out, too, Rodney. I assure you, however, that it won't last long. I don't think I can stand being this happy all the time." Sheppard replied, crossing his arms over his chest and grimaced.

"The tests show you only suffered heavy bruising due to the chest compressions. You'll be sore for quite a while…but you'll live." Dr. Keller continued with a smile.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Sheppard nodded once as the good doctor turned and left him to his teammates.

"So…." Rodney drummed his fingers on the raised bed rail beside Sheppard's bed. He met the colonel's eyes and the two instantly understood each other. Rodney was feeling rather guilty for being unable to help his friend.

"We were even on the life-saving thing, nobody owed anyone any favors…so I figured it was time I helped _myself_ out. That, and I knew it was the only way I was going to get out alive." Sheppard shrugged nonchalantly.

"What is it with you and thinking positive?" Rodney shook his head. "You intentionally _died_, Colonel."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"I will never quite understand your conversations." Teyla tilted her head at the two, smiling.

"Don't really need to." Ronon's voice announced the Satedan's return, both arms balancing four trays of food.

"Ah, yes, dinner!" Rodney exclaimed, reaching for a tray. "What's on the menu for today?"

His hand stopped short when he saw the main course, his appetite suddenly gone sour.

"Angel Hair Pasta. Ha. Ha. Very funny. I don't think I'm hungry." Rodney stepped back, even as his stomach made a rather loud gurgling noise.

Teyla stood to help ease the load of trays from Ronon. After a few moments, all four had settled down, digging into their dinner.

"Major Lorne reported that the entire sublevel is nothing but a thick layer of dust now. There's nothing left of those…er…you know." Rodney spoke, food evident in his mouth.

"What happened to them?" Ronon asked between bites.

"I don't think I care." Sheppard responded, scooping some blue Jell-O into his mouth.

"It is intriguing what the power of the mind can accomplish." Teyla surmised. She exchanged a look with Sheppard that spook volumes between them, yet remained unnoticed by the others.

"It doesn't matter now anyway. We have no evidence of how they did what they did yet Dr. Row has decided to dedicate the rest of her tour here on Atlantis to figuring out exactly that." Rodney replied as he dug into his side dish.

The team talked away the rest of the evening leaving only when Sheppard's eyes closed after fifteen minutes of fighting to stay open.

Silence reigned in the infirmary.

Sheppard's breathing evened out and his body settled into a peaceful slumber.

Only moments later, he woke with a start.

Unfortunate though it was, reality brought with it nightmares. He would overcome those too, but not for now. The torment was still too fresh.

A light brush of air met his clammy skin and he shivered. Goosebumps rose and he had the sudden eerie feeling of being watched. Darkness stretched beyond his dimly lit bed and Sheppard shook off the feeling.

After being through what he had experienced, it would be a long time coming before he could trust reality. He had put on a front when surrounded by his team, Elizabeth and even Dr. Keller. But now, in the stillness of the night, shrouded by an unknown darkness, his only companion being fear, Sheppard was faced with a new reality.

He'd always be on edge, constantly aware, never letting down his guard.

Carson's voice drifted into his mind.

O_pen your eyes_.

Another breeze swept across his chilled skin as the full implication of those words finally came to him.

Sheppard tugged his covers up and shifted to get comfortable, his weary gaze searching the shadows of the darkened infirmary.

Sleep would be a long time coming tonight.

--The End--

Thank you all so much for reading! I had fun with this fic! Glad to end it though, as I am very bad about leaving things unfinished. :)


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